


Quiet Moments

by Uozumi



Series: Tumblr fic prompts from various fandoms [14]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe, For a Friend, I Blame Tumblr, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 06:02:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uozumi/pseuds/Uozumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Hermann and Newt meet face to face in the very, very early days of drift technology and then promise to hang out when things become less stressful only to find those moments are elusive and fleeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Moments

**Author's Note:**

> **Title** _Quiet Moments_  
>  **Author** Uozumi  
>  **Fandom** _Pacific Rim_  
>  **Character(s)/Pairing(s)** Newt Geiszler, Hermann Gottlieb, Mako Mori; Newt/Hermann (Newmann)  
>  **Genre** Alternate Universe/Drama/Romance/Science Fiction/Slash  
>  **Rating** PG-13  
>  **Word Count** 5,045  
>  **Disclaimer** _Pacific Rim_ c. Legendary Pictures, WB  
>  **Summary** AU in which Hermann and Newt meet face to face in the very, very early days of drift technology and then promise to hang out when things become less stressful only to find those moments are elusive and fleeting.  
>  **Warning(s)** injury, violence, death, spoilers  
>  **Notes** Talking to a friend and it led to this as per usual. I decided to go the AU route, not only because this entire concept is AU, but the official canon can sometimes be hit and miss with itself. Kind of a mix of various things I talked about with my friend.

**_Quiet Moments_ **

Drifting was still experimental, but the results so far were promising. Candidates were matched based on computer algorithms and mutual trust. Then they were evaluated together, went through a computer simulation together, and finally got to pilot a test Jaeger. Only people who successfully test piloted a Jaeger by themselves were eligible for the drift experiments. Hermann was surprised when the computer returned only two viable candidates for drift compatibility. Most people had at least five potential candidates. Hermann’s lab partner was 90.91% compatible with him, which was barely above the 90.05% cut off. His other candidate had a potential success rate of 96.75%.

Newton Geiszler had half a dozen candidates, but Hermann was his most viable match. They met on a message board a few years ago. They kept in contact ever since. They both attended the academy, but had never met in person due to scheduling conflicts and different disciplines. Hermann waited on a bench on campus. When he saw that Newt was the best candidate for his test, he was happy but nervous. When he saw Newt approach, Hermann stood. 

Newt scurried over and took Hermann’s hand without much warning. “There you are! Hi! I’m really glad we’re going to take the test together.”

Hermann tensed, but did shake Newt’s hand briefly before pulling it from Newt’s grip. “Could you please not grab on to me without warning?” he asked. 

“Right. Sorry,” Newt said. He put his hands in his pockets and grinned. “So, what should we do? We’ve got two hours until evaluations.”

Evaluations was observed interaction between prospective pilots to determine if the computer was correct in their compatibility. On occasion, in the early exploration of drift technology, there were instances in which the data would look like computability would be flawless and then something would go wrong. 

“I thought we could have lunch,” Hermann said. “I like to stay quiet and calm before exams. This is no different.” They headed to the canteen and once they had their food, Hermann led them to a small table in a corner out of the way. 

“Is this where you always eat?” Newt asked. He wondered how many times they were in the canteen at the same time and he never once looked in this corner. 

“It’s a good table,” Hermann said, “out of the way.”

Newt nodded. The food was good. He bounced in his seat. “Did you hear that the new Star Wars movies are back on? I think I sent you a link to the article I was reading. There’s a lot of rumors. I really hope Luke, Leia, and Han can show up in it, but I heard that Mark Hamill isn’t really into the idea.” Newt spoke in a rapid, rushed voice. He gestured and ate while he talked. 

“Newton,” Hermann said between bites of his salad. 

“I also heard that they’re not going to go with the extended universe,” Newton said. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I kind of liked the twins.”

“Newton,” Hermann said slightly louder, sharper. 

“Yeah?” Newt slurped up the noodle sticking out of his mouth. 

“I want this to be calming,” Hermann said. “You need to calm down.”

Newt bounced a little in his chair, trying to be calmer. “We’ve got an evaluation. What if they say no? What if we aren’t really drift compatible?” Newt asked. 

“Then we won’t be drift compatible,” Hermann said, “and we will meet the next people on our lists.”

“Don’t you want to be drift compatible?” Newt asked. “Don’t you want to go into a Jaeger together?”

“We’ll have to do a simulation before we get to the Jaeger,” Hermann said. “There are a lot of precautions.”

“I know there are precautions, but don’t you want to ring in 2015 piloting a Jaeger with me?” Newt asked. 

“Of course I do, but we don’t know that will happen until we pass all the tests leading up to it,” Hermann said. 

“Of course we’re going to pass the tests! We’re 97% drift compatible. Anything above a 95% works out, especially since they redid the matrix,” Newt said. 

Hermann frowned. He continued to eat. “So far,” he said.

Newt sighed. He finished his food and looked around at the other students. There was a wide range in ages. He looked back at Hermann. This was not how he pictured their first interaction. Hermann had so much to say behind a keyboard or a pen. They fed off each other so easily online and through mail.

Hermann knew Newt could get too talkative, especially if under stress. He took a deep breath and reminded himself of all the confidences between them. He looked at Newt. He sighed. “You don’t have to be completely silent,” he said

“But you don’t want me to talk either,” Newt said. “I know you like silence when you’re mentally preparing for stuff.”

“This is a unique situation,” Hermann said. “I can make an exception.”

“You’re pitying me because you know my anxieties,” Newt said. “You know I want this to work out a lot.” 

“Which is why I’m willing to compromise,” Hermann said. “If we’re going to pilot a Jaeger together, we have to compromise.”

Newt eyed Hermann and then nodded. “I guess.” 

When they both finished their food, they left and headed to the building where the evaluation would take place. If they passed this evaluation, they would have a simulator test next week. Personnel attached monitors to their bodies. It was going to help monitor stress levels and other vitals. The instructors ushered them into a windowless classroom and told them that the previous evaluation was still on going and they had to wait. 

Newt’s chair was uneven and he began to make it slowly move in an arrhythmic, repetitive thumping sound. Hermann folded his arms and bowed his head. He closed his eyes after a while and the thumping increased. 

“Do you have to do that?” Hermann asked. 

“I can’t sit still,” Newt said. 

Hermann sighed. “Tell me more about Mark Hamill.”

“What?” Newt asked. 

“If it’ll help, tell me more about his reaction to more Star Wars,” Hermann said. 

“Well, I don’t know what his reaction is,” Newt said. “There’s just speculation. Everything is speculation.” He leaned forward on his chair. “You get annoyed really easily.”

Hermann folded his arms. “I want this to go well.”

“Why wouldn’t it go well?” Newt asked. “We’re 97% compatible. Trust it.”

Hermann looked at the clock. “What about the 3.25%?” he asked. “How do we know it’s not essential?”

“Because usually it’s not. There’s no such thing as 100% drift compatible,” New said. 

“Yet,” Hermann murmured. 

“Do you have to be so negative?” Newt asked. 

“Trusting something that’s still experimental is a bad idea,” Hermann said. “We have to adapt in a Jaeger, we have to respond. We trust each other, not the process.”

There was a long silence. 

Newt glanced at Hermann. He leaned back on the chair and it thumped against the ground. He ran his tongue along his teeth. He bit his tongue. Then he asked, “Do you really trust me?”

Hermann glanced at him. “Yes,” he said. “I’ve told you things I’ve not told anyone.”

“Yeah, but it was letters. It was the Internet. Who doesn’t feel freer to confide in people they aren’t looking at?” Newt leaned back on his chair and met Hermann’s gaze. “Do you trust me?” he asked. 

“Do you?” Hermann asked, but Newt did not answer. Hermann remained quiet. The silence lingered until the evaluation team entered the room. 

“We need to discuss your evaluation,” the lead officers said. “We’ve been evaluating you since you entered the building. We’re concerned about what we’ve seen. When you’re piloting the new Jaegers, we need you to be one mind. We need your movements to flow easily. We need your stressors to be from other sources than yourselves. We need you to trust each other implicitly.” 

The other officer showed them a tablet that recorded their biorhythmic data since monitoring began. “This is what we’ve observed. You’re both anxious and stressed. Compared to your solo pilot data,” the officer changed the image on the screen, “you’re already beginning with stress levels higher than you do when piloting.”

“The concept of drifting is stressful,” the lead officer said. “When you asked each other about trust, neither of you answered in a way that could satisfy the other. I think it would be in all of our best interests if we evaluated you both with other candidates before making any final commitments.

“Thank you for your time.”

The officers left the room. Hermann and Newton were still connected to the monitoring equipment. Hermann let out a long, low sigh. 

“Can they do that?” Newt asked. 

“It’s in their right,” Hermann said. “They want to make sure they can show the investors that drift technology is the future.” He tried not to look at the security camera in the corner of the room. His gaze found Newt. “I’m going to get these removed and go home.”

“They won’t even put us in a simulator,” Newt said as he followed Hermann. “How’d they expect this to go? We’ve only talked to each other face to face for the first time two hours ago. I’ve taken classes with the next two people on my list.”

“We couldn’t even say we trusted each other when faced with each other,” Hermann said. He quieted when the personnel removed their monitors. After they were free to leave, Hermann said, “Maybe we didn’t have to say we trusted each other.”

“It’s too late now,” Newt said. He frowned and walked through the door Hermann held open. “Why did you have to get so serious about it? It’s like you expected us to fail. I thought you wanted to drift with me.”

“I didn’t want to get my hopes up if it didn’t work out,” Hermann said. 

“That’s why it didn’t work out!” Newt said. He turned to face Hermann. They were blocking one of two doors into the front of the building. “You thought it wouldn’t work and so it didn’t work.”

“It didn’t work because the computers don’t calculate personality. It’s not absolute,” Hermann said. “Maybe the computers were wrong. Maybe we’re not drift compatible at all.”

Newt opened his mouth. He held up a finger and then he lowered it. “You don’t really think that.”

“They’re not rushing to suit us up together. It’s a legitimate hypothesis,” Hermann said. 

“I can’t believe this,” Newt said. “You’re talking about this like this was nothing more than some chemistry experiment.”

“Is it more than a chemistry experiment?” Hermann asked. “Mixing two people together and seeing what will result.”

Newt deflated. He held Hermann’s gaze. Newt opened his mouth and then shut it. 

Hermann looked away. “Newton –” his voice stopped short. Newt was already walking away. Hermann thought about calling out to him, but wondered if it was not better to give Newt space. Newt did not look back and Hermann turned away and headed in the opposite direction. 

Hermann’s evaluation with his lab partner went much smoother. They passed their simulation and soon it was time for them to take their drifting test. Hermann approached the gated test area and paused. Newton stood nearby with his hands in his pockets. Hermann approached him. “Newton,” he greeted him. 

“Sorry about the evaluation,” Newt said. “It should be me in that cockpit with you. I shouldn’t have let my nerves get the better of me.”

Hermann nodded. “I shouldn’t have focused on it failing,” he said. “I was so afraid it would fail that I tried to prepare myself for it. I ended up ensuring that it would.”

“You want to hang out sometime?” Newt asked. “Maybe when things aren’t so stressful?”

Hermann’s lips quirked into a small, pleased smile. “Yes,” he said, “when things calm down a little.”

Newt grinned. “Go kick the test’s ass.” He put a hand briefly on Hermann’s shoulder. 

Hermann nodded and passed through security. Hermann and his partner had trust built up from having many labs together. They could trust each other to follow procedure and to fulfill their duties to each experiment. It took a moment to swim out of the memories and pilot the test Jaeger. Twenty minutes into the test, the sirens echoed through campus. 

“We’re sending you the kaiju’s coordinates,” the lead officer said. “Patrol will back you up. You’re both experienced pilots. We need you out there.” 

“Yes, sir,” Hermann and his lab partner said. 

The kaiju was a category II. The test Jaeger arrived before patrol since they were closer to the kaiju. The kaiju’s tail was dexterous and kept trying to grab the test Jaeger. Hermann and his lab partner called out their actions as they performed them, working to focus their brains to task. Then there was a flash, lightning with no thunder inside the cockpit.

“What is that?” Hermann asked. 

“I don’t know,” his lab partner said. 

“Kick with the left leg,” Hermann said at the same time his lab partner said, “kick with the right leg.” They both tried to kick at the same time and the Jaeger fell onto its posterior. There were more flashes. 

“Patrol on your right,” patrol announced just as the kaiju jumped down onto the center of the test Jaeger. Hermann shut his eyes on reflex. 

 

When Hermann opened them, the cockpit was no longer powered. He could not move. There was intense pain especially in one of his hips. He could hear English in his headset, but his brain only had the energy to process German. 

Something forced the cockpit open from the outside. Hermann tensed and cried out in pain on reflex. He shut his eyes. The pain in his hip intensified steadily. There was more English. He felt like he understood that someone was upset, that there should be a different training method. People entered the cockpit and carried him and his lab partner outside. It was snowing and the flakes stung Hermann’s flushed face. The cold only made the pain worse and Hermann lost consciousness. 

When Hermann woke, he was alone in one of the campus’ medical facilities. He had a catheter and a compressing stocking. He was propped up with cushions and had a pain drip. Hermann closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. He felt an impending, but not immediate threat of vomiting. His hand slowly moved along until he found a call button. He did not want to throw up on himself if his nausea worsened. The nurse brought him something to throw up in just in case. 

“Wo ist…?” Hermann’s whisper trailed. He swallowed and tried to ask again.

“The doctor will explain,” the nurse said. 

“Ich…” Hermann murmured, but he felt too exhausted to finish the sentence. 

“The doctor will explain,” the nurse repeated firmly.

The doctor and one of the people in charge of testing visited later that day when Hermann was more coherent. He listened to everything they had to say quietly. His lab partner was dead and his own hip shattered. Their drift was unstable soon after engaging the kaiju. His partner died of internal bleeding from multiple fractures. 

Hermann and his lab partner were one of the handful of failures in the early drifting system. As people began to understand drifting more, the focus was less on computerized conjectures of compatibility and people choosing who to drift with and completing a series of spars and exercises to increase trust and cooperation. Failure of the drifting process became minimal, but casualties increased as the kaiju grew stronger as though responding to the increase in Jaeger capabilities. 

Hermann was unable to go to his own graduation. He used his time after graduation to develop a kaiju prediction system. He was unsure if he was seeing patterns that were not there, but he was as accurate as a tornado warning system and it did help. Somewhere in-between the physical therapy and kaiju attack data, Hermann realized Newt was gone. Not just from communication but also the campus. Newt did not visit him in the hospital and neither of them sent the other a letter or e-mail. Hermann stared at his inbox and opened a new message. He typed in Newt’s address and then stared at the blinking cursor. What could he say? Could he just send an e-mail as though they had not lost communication for over a year? Hermann considered just sending an e-mail that asked, “So was Episode VII any good?” but he was not sure if the movie had even premiered yet. 

In Hong Kong, Newton did not stare at a computer screen wondering if he should e-mail Hermann. He had a kaiju on an operating table slit open with a Y-incision while he sorted through the animal’s organs. “And…some kind of…” he gingerly squeezed the organ in his hand “Squishy organ that weighs…” he placed it in scale, “907.185g. Function of the organ is unknown.” Newt continued the dissection and then he put his findings in storage and went to scrub down. As he walked from his lab to the canteen, he thought about Hermann. Nothing had calmed down since they last spoke. Newt wanted to see him in the campus hospital, but he was not family so he was not allowed. Newt meant to contact Hermann, but he was not sure Hermann wanted to be contacted. Newt sighed and sat with the other members of his science team once he got his tray of food. 

Years passed and they both made names for themselves. When Hermann finally came to Hong Kong, Newt was in the process of finalizing his second tattoo sleeve. When Hermann exited the helicopter, he adjusted the bag on his back and lowered his head. He gripped the railing of the stairs and headed down carefully but quickly. He planted his cane firmly on the ground and it was not until he was clear of the helicopter that he looked up to see Newt waiting for him. 

Newt was not sure if he was supposed to offer Hermann any help or not. He took Hermann’s hand when Hermann offered it and shook it. “Hey, Hermann.”

“Dr. Gottleib,” Hermann said. 

“Dr. Hermann,” Newt said. 

“At work, I’m Dr. Gottlieb. I worked very hard for this title,” Hermann said. He let go of Newt’s hand. 

“If you’re Dr. Gottleib, then I’m Dr. Geiszler,” Newt said and wrinkled his nose. He was a doctor, but the title always made him feel like he was supposed to have gray hair and grandchildren on the way. 

“Alright, Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann said, repeating the title to help remember. 

“Is that how this is going to be?” Newt asked. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m Newt or Newton all the time, work or play.” He started showing Hermann around the Hong Kong base.

“I’m still Dr. Gottleib at work,” Hermann said. 

“Yeah, well, this isn’t work right now. We’re not on the clock. I mean we live here too you know,” Newt said. “So, right now, it’s Hermann and Newt or Newton or whatever.” He normally did not like being called Newton, but Hermann had a way of saying that did not make Newt think of US fig cookies. 

Hermann followed Newt to the barracks. Hermann’s roommate was due to transfer to Hong Kong in the next few days. After an attack on a base in Japan, people were reshuffling. Hermann was in Hong Kong because it would give him access to the best data possible to refine the warning system. 

“I like your tattoos,” Hermann said. “Are they all kaiju?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Newt said. “I want to cover my body in our victories.”

“I thought you were fascinated by their structure,” Hermann said. 

Newt stopped at the door to the office where Hermann had to report in and register as a member of the base. His lips became a fine line. “Here’s where you sign in. Maybe after you become official we can talk or something?”

“Sure,” Hermann said. 

Except part way through Hermann signing his forms, the siren echoed through the base. There was a kaiju a few miles away to their north. The kaiju was in the five day margin of error in Hermann’s prediciton system. They were the closer base. Everyone scrambled into their places. Hermann finished his signatures and took the keys to his room and the lab as he headed for the door. The lab was large and full of other scientists, each inhabiting their own territory. Hermann found the chalkboards he requested. There was a mix of instruction and hurried introductions. Everyone set to work. 

There was always something happening or an equation to perfect or some section of kaiju to analyze. Colleagues transferred, died, or retired. Numbers at the Hong Kong base and beyond steadily dwindled as the kaiju grew more deadly. 

Newt twirled in his chair and slid across the room on its wheels. He managed to stop just before crashing into one of Hermann’s chalkboards. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Newton, I can’t work with you on my side of the lab,” Hermann said. 

“The kaiju won’t be here for two weeks,” Newton said. 

“The margin of error is three days,” Hermann said. “If I could figure out where I’m going wrong, I could get the margin of error down to twenty-four hours.”

“You’ve been awake for forty-eight hours,” Newt said. 

“I work best when things are quiet,” Hermann said. He looked down at Newt from his perch on his ladder. 

“I’m pretty sure you also work best when you sleep,” Newt said. 

“You can sleep if you wish,” Hermann said. “I can’t sleep until I finish this.”

Newt held Hermann’s gaze. He managed to catch the chalk when it slipped from Hermann’s fingers. Newt set the chalk in the chalk holder and walked back to his side of the lab.

Hermann sighed. He carefully got down from his perch. He ran a hand through his hair and picked up his cane that was leaning against the ladder. He left the lab with Newt. They walked slowly down the halls. There was no one around, anyone working the night shift in other parts of the base. “We were going to do something when things calmed down,” Hermann said after a while.

Newt put his hands in his pockets. “I think it got more stressful,” he said. He looked at Hermann. “Still want to go out sometime?” he asked. 

“Sometime,” Hermann said. “Maybe after the next attack.” He stopped at his door and leaned on his cane heavily. He yawned. “Excuse me.” He rubbed his face with his free hand. 

“Alright,” Newt said. It was morbid but many people scheduled things for after the next attack to avoid catastrophes. Newt had even been to a wedding once that was scheduled for “the first Saturday after the first kaiju attack in June” last year. 

Hermann nodded. “Goodnight, Newton,” he said and then entered his quarters. 

“Night,” Newt said and headed away to his own down the hall. 

The next attack was devastating. This kaiju was stronger, faster, and more destructive than all the previous kaiju. Newt and the xenobiology team had to go on location to collect kaiju parts to start understanding why this kaiju was so different. When he returned, Hermann was still at his calculations and the gap between incidents was still shrinking. Sometimes Hermann and Newt had time with each other where they could grab a drink, but it seemed like half way through drinking it and talking about the pros and cons of taking two and a half hours to see a movie, someone would need one or both of them. 

A few days later, Newt and Hermann were in the lab. Hermann was working on a report and Newt was dissecting a kaiju brain. 

“…Strange enlarged portion of brain,” Newt noted. “Like a bulb in the center of the frontal lobe, if this is even a front lobe as we know it.” He photographed the brain intact and scanned it into a 3D system so they could keep track of the exact shape and proportions in a kaiju database. “Time to cut it out.” Newt began to disconnect the bulb from the brain.

Hermann glanced at Newt and then looked back at his report once Newt quieted. Hermann mouthed his words as he typed, not only to make sure he wrote his report in English, but to maximize his concentration. 

Newt set the bulb in his scale. “440g,” he said, “so a tenth of the weight of the rest of the brain.” Newt studied it closely. “Nice,” he murmured. 

“It’s not ‘nice,’” Hermann said. “It’s deadly.”

“Deadly things can be nice,” Newt said. He poked and prodded at the portion of brain. “Don’t you ever look at something like a lion and go, ‘Nice?’”

“Lions aren’t exterminating all the inhabitants of Earth,” Hermann said. He paused and re-read his last sentence and then highlighted a portion and retyped it to make it more coherent.

“Aren’t you always telling me you need a quiet work environment?” Newton asked. He looked down at his recording device. As always, he wondered if he really had to transcribe this part of his recording into his logs. He inevitably always did just in case. 

Hermann held Newt’s gaze a moment and then returned to his computer. Newt sighed and then returned to analyzing the kaiju brain. The rest of the science team in the lab ignored them. 

It was late in the lab when Hermann worked his way down from near the top of his chalkboards. He looked around the lab and then headed over to Newt’s computer station. “Newton,” he said carefully. Newt did not readily respond. “Newton,” he said more firmly and placed his fingers gently between Newt’s shoulder blades. 

Newt startled awake. He looked around and then at Hermann. “Everything’s blurry.” He fumbled and found his glasses and put them back on. “Better. What is it?”

“It’s past four,” Hermann said. “You were sleeping at your desk. It’s not a good position for restorative sleep.” He stepped back. “The kaiju will come between six and seven days. We need what sleep we can get to have the maximum benefit.”

Newt slid off his stool and took Hermann’s offered arm with a large yawn. “A week.”

“Yes,” Hermann said. They began walking back towards their quarters. Hermann bypassed his own to help Newt down the hall. 

“Why can’t we be like this all the time?” Newt murmured. 

“Because I need to shut the world out to work effectively and you need freedom of expression to work effectively,” Hermann said. 

Newt sighed and let go of Hermann. He ran his hands through his hair. “When this is over, when the kaiju are gone, that’s when we should go out. When we don’t have to work together anymore and fuck anything up.”

“Alright,” Hermann said. “When this is over, we’ll celebrate.” 

Newt nodded and he headed into his quarters. Hermann headed back towards his own.

The end was in sight, but celebration was not. The next kaiju attack was imminent. Newt walked down the hallway and almost jumped when Mako fell in step beside him. 

“Sorry,” she said. They kept walking down the hall. 

“No, I’m just…” Newt gestured around, not sure how to finish the sentence. They knew each other since Newt transferred to the Hong Kong base. 

Mako nodded. “We all are,” she said. 

“There’s got to be more we can do,” Newt said. He already had an idea of what he could do. He could already hear Hermann’s arguments and see Stacker’s stern gaze. 

“There is,” Mako said. “There always is.” She touched his arm briefly and then she said in Japanese, “If we stop believe that, then we can’t win.” 

Newt looked at her and then he nodded. They said goodbye to each other and went in separate directions when they got to an intersecting hallway. He took a deep breath, finalizing a decision in his head. 

When the breach closed, the global celebration rivaled New Year’s celebration. The world knew hours after the breach closed and with each kaiju free day, the celebrations intensified and everyone wanted to interview those who survived to tell the story. A year later found Hermann and Newt at Hermann’s apartment in England. He had a professor position at a local university and they just filmed their segments for a documentary the BBC was doing about the war against the kaiju and the aftermath. 

“We will talk about this for the rest of our lives,” Hermann said. He leaned heavily on his cane, trying to take pressure off his hip. “Mori and Beckett were right when they disappeared.” No one had seen Mako Mori or Raleigh Beckett since their first interview. 

“Saying you want to run off with me and never look back?” Newt asked. He helped Hermann with his coat and then hung both their coats on hooks by the door. 

“It’s tempting,” Hermann said, but they both knew he would not run from the responsibility of his classes and he would not ask Newt to run away from his job either. Neither of them needed a drink or food. They eventually found their way to the couch and looked out at the rain. It was quiet. Newt stretched his legs. They both sunk deep into the sofa. 

“I think…I think we’ve made it,” Newt said after a long bout of silence. 

“To what?” Hermann asked. 

Newt sat up so he could see Hermann’s face properly. “Everything’s calmed down. The most exhausting thing we do is answer questions about our past.” 

“I don’t have the energy to go out right now,” Hermann said. He opened an arm to Newt. 

Newt moved close and leaned heavily against Hermann. He put his arms around Hermann’s waist and let their bodies settle together naturally. “Yay, it’s over,” he murmured. 

“Yay,” Hermann yawned and ran his fingers through Newt’s hair. He felt his shoulders relax and his eyes close. His fingers rested in Newt’s hair and he felt Newt’s breath on his neck. Everything was calm.

**The End**


End file.
